


Performance

by sweatygraham



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bondage, Bottom Will Graham, Bottoming from the Top, Clarice Dies, Creampie, Dark Will Graham, M/M, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Possessive Behavior, Post-Fall (Hannibal), Top Hannibal Lecter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-17 21:47:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29357475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweatygraham/pseuds/sweatygraham
Summary: A Tattle Crime article containing an interview from Jack Crawford's new trainee, Clarice Starling, implying that Hannibal will grow bored of Will sets in motion a plan to make Will jealous and drive him to kill because of it. Not everything, however, goes quite as Hannibal thought it would but perhaps goes even better than he could have ever imagined.or the one where Will kidnaps and ties up both Hannibal and Clarice before riding Hannibal in front of her to show her exactly who Hannibal belongs to. Oh, and the two of them share a late dinner after that.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 14
Kudos: 307





	Performance

**Author's Note:**

> my first fic for the hannibal fandom! it's a little rusty since i haven't written in so long but i hope you enjoy! also i apologise in advance if clarice is wildly ooc. i have not read any of the books nor seen any of the films. this is incredibly self indulgent though so i wasn't hugely concerned about getting it right XD

It’s Freddie Lounds, as always, who alerts them. After two years of a cold trail, Jack Crawford has chosen a promising new recruit to bring some fresh eyes to the case. Clarice Starling.

Fresh eyes, indeed.

They’ve been tucked away in Cuba for over a year now and no one has bothered them. It’s a simple life. Hannibal wakes every day to Will’s face soft and peaceful in bed beside him. And every night that they hunt, Will’s face is hard and beautiful, splattered with blood. He is happier than he has ever been.

So, neither of them thinks much of it when it’s announced.

It’s only another two articles down the line that Hannibal notices it. He hasn’t checked it himself yet but he sees Will tense slightly across the table, breakfast going cold beside him as he reads Freddie Lounds’ latest. When Will’s eyes have finished skimming, he looks off out the window, lips pursed.

He scrapes his plate into the bin and leaves the house in his fishing gear without a word.

Once he’s gone, Hannibal pulls the article up to read himself only to smile.

For a few paragraphs down is:

_It wasn’t so long ago that Jack Crawford pulled Will Graham out of the classroom to profile a killer that led him into Hannibal’s open arms. Though teacher and not trainee as Miss Starling is, could this be a ploy to see if Hannibal has a type?_

_Miss Starling herself was quoted saying, “From my review of the case files, it appears clear to me that Hannibal Lecter quite enjoys playing with the authorities. Will Graham was an even more special case due to his empathy. Who could say how long he could toy with the man before becoming bored? He is a man of refined taste after all, in a great many things. I believe he has a taste for those on the other side. For those who are chasing him.”_

_Could it be such a young, fresh mind that pulls Hannibal out of his hiding? Could it be that Will Graham was just another toy in his toybox, a cat amused at its woollen ball until the threads become old and frayed and he begins his search for another?_

Hannibal ponders before closing the article, a plan forming in his mind.

It’s a week later that confirms it. Will’s been tense ever since that morning.

But today they’re dining out, the two of them out to dinner on a breezy night when the waitress makes a pass at Hannibal at the end of the night. Will glares, hand tightening around his glass so greatly that Hannibal is curious to see if it will break.

The waitress is embarrassed when Hannibal tells her he is already taken. She tells him whoever the lady is at home, she’s extremely lucky.

As she wanders away, Will drinks the rest of his wine in one swallow before telling Hannibal it’s time to leave.

Hannibal smiles, his decision already made.

It’s easy to find her. There aren’t many Clarice Starling’s in Quantico. There’s a landline registered and he calls it on his burner in the study. He can tell she is startled to hear his voice and attempts to scramble for something to help her.

She only settles when he tells her there is no way to trace him, he made sure of it, and if she wants him to call again to get him to talk to her, she’ll have to make sure no one else knows.

She goes along with it at least for now. They talk about mundane things. The case. Jack Crawford. He tells her he will tell her more about himself if she tells him more about herself. He’s read about her on Tattle Crime and he finds her interesting. Unique.

The door is shut behind him but the walls are thin. He doesn’t hear Will. But he can feel him there, eyes burning through the door into the back of Hannibal’s head.

As suspected, when Hannibal finally ends the call Will does not speak of it. Acts as though he never heard Hannibal in the study at all. Will goes to bed that night with his back turned to Hannibal. A small part of him aches for Will but he knows from his reaction that if he can pull this off it will be worth it.

So, it goes. For months and months. He calls Clarice at her home every week, sometimes multiple times.

Hannibal learns many things of her.

He tells her in turn that his life here with Will has grown dull. He, over time, plants the idea that if she were to meet him, he would slip away with her instead.

And he can almost hear the cogs turning in her mind. She knows of his past with Will. She knows of where his interest can lead. If she plays along, perhaps she can have Hannibal attempt to run away with her, only for her to take him down.

He wouldn’t be allowed a chance to escape again.

She is naïve. She respects him too much. She decides to come alone to Cuba.

The evening Hannibal leaves to meet her, Will can’t meet his eye. He’s been tense and quiet all these weeks now. When Hannibal kisses him on the forehead and tells him with a shark smile that he will be back soon with the ingredients for dinner, Will’s jaw twitches and he mumbles goodbye in response.

Hannibal’s careful to make sure they are alone when he finally meets Clarice. She is the same as she was in Freddie Lounds’ pictures. When he finally steps out of the shadows of an alley, Clarice startles, hand already falling to her waist although she tries to play it off naturally.

“You came,” he says, makes sure it has enough whimsy to its edge.

She swallows, straightening. Her right hand is stiff by her side still but Hannibal doesn’t allow his eyes to fall there.

“I did. I wanted to see you first. Before I made any decision.”

Hannibal smiles, splaying his arms out wide.

“And here you’ve seen me.”

“I have.” She shuffles on her feet. “So, where are we to go?”

There’s movement from behind him and then, “Somewhere just for the three of us, I think,” Will says, gun already raised as Clarice scrambles for her own. The dart is pierced through her skin and she’s slumping to the ground before any more words can be said.

Will turns on him then, holding the gun to his chest. He smiles that deadly smile Hannibal loves. “You too,” Will says, before a dart hits him in the chest.

The last thing Hannibal can think before he slips into darkness is he cannot wait.

He wakes slowly in a darkened room. The first thing he notices when his eyes are still adjusting is that he is sitting on an arm chair with his hands bound behind him and another piece of rope wound around his chest, keeping him pinned to the chair.

The next is that he is stark naked.

When his eyes finally adjust he finds himself to be in their living room. Will stands before him, naked as well. That’s when Hannibal notices the hand stretched behind him, thrusting back and forth. Will’s cock is hardening, precome leaking from the tip.

Hannibal’s own cock twitches at the sight though he’s still a little foggy.

It’s a small sound that draws his eyes to the side where Clarice sits tied to one of their dining table chairs. She herself is fully clothed but there is a piece of cloth wrapped around her eyes. She must be waking for she pulls at her ropes over and over. Hannibal flicks his eyes back to Will watching as the man before him removes his fingers from himself and stalks over to Clarice, removing the blindfold and tying it instead around her mouth.

She doesn’t put up much of a fight with whatever drugs Will put in her system.

She blinks when he steps back, adjusting to the dark room, only the moonlight flooding through the windows allowing them to see. When her eyes find Hannibal, they fill with confusion and panic.

“Shh, shh, shh,” Will says, nudging her jaw back so her eyes meet his. “I admire your courage for coming all this way alone. But I don’t appreciate you trying to take Hannibal from me. And I certainly don’t appreciate you insinuating that I am a mere toy for Hannibal to play with until he gets bored.”

Clarice blinks, eyes flicking back to Hannibal, perhaps hoping he will do something. Say something.

Will steps back then, walking over to Hannibal and grabbing his cock tightly. Hannibal jolts, a moan spilling from his lips as Will begins to stroke him with his already lube coated fingers.

“So, I thought it best for me to remind you,” Will says, looking Clarice directly in the eyes, “exactly who Hannibal belongs to. And if you close your eyes or try to look away, you will regret it.”

Hannibal shudders at his words, his cock hard and leaking now, back arching into Will’s touch. Will smirks above him.

“As for you,” he says, one knee on either side of Hannibal’s thighs. “You will take what you are given and you will not come until I say so.” He presses his thumb into the slit of his cock and Hannibal groans. Will leans down, grazes his earlobe with his teeth. “Do you understand?”

Hannibal almost smiles. Almost tells him what a beautiful, cunning boy he is. But he bites it back. He doesn’t want Will to know this is more than he could have ever wanted when he decided to call Clarice that night.

So, instead he nods his head, breaths already coming heavy.

Will smiles. “Good.” Satisfied, he positions himself, lifting above his lap before he sinks down on Hannibal’s cock, eyes holding Clarice’s as he does.

Hannibal lets out a deep growl in his throat, the possessiveness in Will’s eyes lighting fire under his skin. He never thought Will would get like this. He thought after all this, he would have had the pleasure to see Will kill Clarice in front of him.

He didn’t think…

Will rocks a little in his lap, gaze back on Hannibal before he lifts himself up and fucks himself back down. Hannibal curses in his native tongue, his hips already thrusting up to meet Will, unable to resist the man before him. But with how he’s tied it’s hard for him to get any leverage so he truly is a slave to Will’s desire.

And right now it certainly is something torturous. Possessive and torturous. Will rocks his hips prettily, a smirk in his eyes when he meets Hannibal’s. Both his hands come to rest on Hannibal’s bare chest, grasping at his chest hair and pulling just the way Hannibal likes it. His hips buck and his arms pull behind him, wanting so badly to tangle his fingers in Will’s curls and yank his head back so he can bite his throat. Wanting so badly to throw him off the chair, press him into the hard floor and hear those delicious sounds spill from Will’s mouth as Hannibal fucks him brutally.

Will must see the desire in his eyes for one of the hands on his chest trails up to brush over Hannibal’s throat. A wanting noise slips from him and it only serves to make his skin burn brighter as he notices Will turning to look at a stunned Clarice. His nose brushes against Hannibal’s cheek as he watches her.

“You’re mine,” Will speaks through gritted teeth, riding Hannibal’s cock so perfectly, obscene slick sounds filling the room. “Your cock. Your pretty sounds. All mine. Just for me. Right, Hannibal?”

Hannibal leans forward to catch Will’s ear between his teeth, any contact would do, but Will’s too fast, pulling away teasingly.

“Will,” he pants, warmth pooling at the bottom of his stomach, his thighs tensing slightly.

Will runs a hand over himself, passing from his throat over a nipple and down to the dark hair trailing from his belly button to his hard, leaking cock. His other hand reaches out to lift Hannibal’s chin.

“Am I just another toy in your toybox, Hannibal? Are you going to get bored of me?” And he punctuates the ‘me’ with a sudden change in speed, rocking his hips faster, fucking himself down harder. Hannibal’s shakes his head through his panting before it falls back with a groan. And Hannibal’s usually the controlled one in bed. Usually the one that enjoys taking Will apart. But Will like this is too much, too beautiful, too overwhelming and bringing out something too primal inside of him. All he can do is take and take and take.

When Will pulls him back by the chin to meet his gaze, Hannibal notices the lovely flush on Will’s chest and the way his breaths are becoming rougher now.

“Good. Now, use your words, Hannibal. Who do you belong to?”

Hannibal swallows thickly, pupils blown and he glances towards Clarice out of interest to see her expression when a hand has him by the hair and is pulling his gaze harshly away.

Will’s eyes are fiery and piercing. “Don’t look at her,” he says, darkly. “Look at me.”

Hannibal shudders, arching beneath the sound of his voice and he’s close, so close.

He breathes and finally gives Will what he wants, what he already knows. “You, Will. Only you.”

Will bites his lip, head falling back as a small breathy moan spills from his sinful mouth. And it would have been the perfect moment to glance at Clarice, see the expression on her face but he can’t take his eyes from the man before him. The beautiful line of his throat, lips reddened from biting them and the flutter of his lashes on his cheeks.

Will’s eyes are lidded when he reaches down and coats his fingers in his own precome before wrapping his hand around his cock. He strokes quick and rough, hips losing some of their rhythm but none of their force.

And Hannibal can feel his orgasm on the brink, so close to coming when Will finally snaps his gaze up to his.

“Come for me, Hannibal.”

And in that moment, Hannibal forgets there’s even another person in the room.

Will comes all over Hannibal’s own stomach, a beautiful moan rumbling through his chest and when he clenches tight around him, Hannibal follows after.

They both sit there for a moment, trying to catch their breath. A small noise alerts them both to Clarice’s presence, eyes wide in terror and confusion still.

Will rises off Hannibal’s cock and off the arm chair on shaky legs. Hannibal watches come leak from his ass as he walks over to the coffee table where he picks up a small knife. Clarice’s eyes grow ever wider and she struggles in her bonds, her words muffled by the piece of cloth Will tied around her mouth.

He walks towards her and she shrinks back but he merely hooks his fingers in the cloth and pulls it down.

“Is there something you want to say?”

She doesn’t scream nor make a fuss. She’s smarter than that. She merely swallows, glancing towards Hannibal. “He belongs to you. I understand that now,” she says, quiet and careful as though placating a wild animal.

But Will is much more dangerous than a wild animal.

“Good,” he says and Hannibal watches as Will – who stands naked in their house, come trailing down his leg – slits Clarice’s throat.

When he turns, there’s blood splattered across his chest. Hannibal’s cock twitches at the sight and he’s never wanted to devour someone as he wants to devour Will in this very moment.

When Will looks at him, his gaze is flat, any teasing gone. Hannibal wonders if he will have to explain or apologise so Will will cut him out of his bonds. But Will strides over and does it himself until Hannibal is free to rub at his chafed wrists. Will hands the knife to him then, placing it in his palm.

“I’m going to have a shower,” he says. “When I’m finished I hope to have dinner since you decided we would be skipping it earlier.”

With that, he leaves Hannibal to the dark.

Hannibal smiles.

By the time Will has finished with his particularly long shower, Hannibal has cleaned the house, properly stored the body and prepared her heart for dinner. It seemed appropriate.

They eat in almost comfortable silence for most of the meal. Hannibal cannot sense any anger or jealousy coming from Will. He supposes it’s a good time to speak.

“I have something to confess, Will.” Will glances up at him, his eyes light. He’s oddly quiet. “I had no real interest in Miss Starling. I saw how Freddie Lounds’ article got to you and for most selfish reasons, I wanted to see how exactly you would react if I pushed you on it. Made you feel as though what she wrote in the article was true.”

Will’s expression doesn’t change except for the smallest of smiles that touches his lips. He takes a bite of her heart.

“I know,” he says, simple and quiet.

Hannibal stares at him for a few moments, processing Will’s words before he smiles, showing his teeth.

“You cunning boy.” _My cunning boy_. He places down his cutlery, chest swelling with pride. He shouldn’t be so surprised. Will’s fooled him many times before. A compelling actor and Hannibal can be quite blinded by him. But he never thought Will would go to such length, act so put out for weeks and weeks on end just to satisfy what Hannibal had planned for him. But what Hannibal had planned was a simple jealousy killing. Not that. But then again, to his great pleasure, he could never entirely predict him.

“Such a compelling performance.” He stands making his way around the table and leaning over behind Will until his lips brush his ear. Will’s eyes flutter closed, leaning into his touch.

“For that performance I think you deserve a reward, do you not?”

Will eventually admits that he was bothered at first by the article and was jealous when that waitress made a pass at Hannibal but he’d known immediately that Hannibal was scheming something. Hannibal couldn’t even be mad for failing his own performance after what came out of it.

By the time Hannibal is done with his reward in the early hours of the morning Will’s completely spent. Bruises litter the inside of his thighs, his hips and his throat and there’s dried come sticking to his skin. 

He’s the most beautiful canvas Hannibal’s ever had the pleasure to work on. And he would stay in bed a little longer but there’s one last thing he has to do.

______________________________________

Clarice Starling is reported missing within forty-eight hours of her departure from Quantico. The FBI trace her to Cuba and eventually to a small, slightly hidden away house. It’s clear that though most belongings are gone, it’s recently been lived in.

Jack Crawford arrives at the scene with no doubt in his mind who exactly it was that lived here. But it’s confirmed when he’s given the note addressed to him that was sitting on the palm of a dismembered arm. Just like Miriam Lass. Except Miriam Lass is alive. Jack doesn’t need any evidence to know that Clarice Starling is not.

The note itself is written in Hannibal’s familiar hand.

_Dear Jack,_

_If you keep hiring new trainees who think they can come between Will and I, I certainly will never get bored._

_Sincerely, Hannibal Lecter_

**Author's Note:**

> find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/asexualkaz)!


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